


Begin Again

by captainatx



Series: Always Where I Need To Be [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-16
Updated: 2016-03-16
Packaged: 2018-05-27 01:11:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6263593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainatx/pseuds/captainatx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lexa moves across the country to start a new life and meets an unlikely new friend...</p><p>in the floor of the elevator...</p><p>drinking directly from a bottle of champagne.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Begin Again

**Author's Note:**

> We could all use some fluff, right?

It had taken one week, two U-Hauls, and enough sugar-free Redbull to power an international space station, but she made it.

Lexa Woods was home.

Sort of.

 _Home_ was a concept that Lexa wasn't entirely familiar with. She had lived in houses, sure - and dorm rooms and apartments and high rises, with her parents and friends and strangers and ex-girlfriends - but in her 28 years she’d never really lived in one place long enough to truly consider it home. There were ups and downs to moving so often, in Lexa’s opinion. She may not have many close friends, and she may have had to change the address on her driver’s license more than the average human, but on the flip side, she’d met some of the most interesting people around the world, and with every address update she received an abundance of Welcome Home coupons from Bed Bath and Beyond. And, really, what more could a girl ask for?

It was nearly 2 a.m. when she grabbed her final box from the back of the truck. She took a minute to breathe in the smell of the ocean, and congratulated herself again on finding a condo so close to the beach. Her father had scoffed when she told him about the job opportunity, but she didn't care. California was unlike any place she had ever lived, and the thought of starting over - literally on the opposite side of the country from her old life - thrilled her.

She reached up to her tip-toes, curling a slender hand around the handle of the truck’s sliding door, and pulled down hard. She winced slightly as the door slammed shut, because the last thing she needed was to piss off her neighbors less than twelve hours after moving in. She propped the cardboard box on her hip and fished in her jacket pockets for her keys before making her way into the building.

“Need a hand?” The deep voice from behind her caused Lexa to jump, but she turned and quickly recognized Lincoln, whom she’d met earlier when she’d finished signing her lease. He lived in the building, too, working as what he referred to as “Night Manager/Security/Handyman/Resident Superhero.” Lexa liked him already.

Lincoln was seated behind the large desk in the lobby, feet propped up on the counter, a worn paperback book in his hands. Lexa smiled at him, but shook her head.

“No thank you. This is one of the lighter ones, and my last trip tonight.”

Lincoln nodded. “If you need help taking the truck back tomorrow, let me know. I’m happy to help.”

She thanked him again, turning the corner towards the elevators - another small victory in the condo-shopping experience. She pressed the button, humming to herself quietly as she watched the numbers above the door fall. 10… 9… 8… 7…

She let her eyes drift closed for a moment, thinking of the moment when she would get to her place and fall into her bed, and then groaned when she remembered that she hadn’t unpacked her sheets yet. Rookie mistake.

The elevator dinged, shaking Lexa out of her inner self-chastising. She adjusted the box in her arms as the doors opened, and took a few steps into the elevator before quickly stopping in her tracks.

There was a girl in the elevator.

Sitting on the floor.

Drinking directly from a bottle of champagne.

The girl glanced up as Lexa entered, swallowing her drink and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand before pushing her blonde, wavy hair behind her ears. Lexa noticed that the girl’s eyes were bloodshot and there was a smattering of mascara dotting her tear-stained cheeks, as the girl swiped a futile hand across her eyes.

“Hi, don’t mind me,” the girl began, a slight quiver in her voice. She sent a sweeping arm across the expanse of the car. “Mi elevator es su elevator.”

Lexa took a cautious step further into the car, her eyes never drifting from the girl in the floor as the doors closed behind her.

“Are you… okay?” Lexa asked, pressing her back to the wall.

The girl smiled grimly. “Never better. What floor?”

“Twelve, please.”

“On it.” The blonde let out a small groan as she rocked forward onto her knees, reaching out an arm to press the button on the wall.

She sat back as the elevator lurched upward, and crossed her legs in front of her. She took another swig of the champagne bottle and reached it out towards Lexa. “Drink?”

“I’m fine, thank you.”

The girl shrugged, tipping the bottle back towards her lips.

Lexa studied her for a short moment before speaking again. “Are you sure you’re okay? Do you need me to call someone? Are you locked out? Lincoln is in the lobby and we could...”

“I’m fine, I promise,” the girl laughed, though her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “It’s been a long night, and I’m just not ready to go home yet.”

Lexa nodded, turning her attention back to the climbing numbers. She felt awkward, like she was invading this poor woman’s life.

“Did you just move in?” the girl asked.

Again, Lexa nodded. “This afternoon.” She lifted the box in her hands slightly. “This is my last load.”

The girl in the floor gave a genuine smile. “Welcome to the building, neighbor. I’m Clarke.” She extended a hand, but realized that Lexa would have to a) drop the box and b) crouch to the floor to shake it, so she pulled it back into a fist with a slight quirk of her lip.

“I’m Lexa. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Lexa,” the girl, Clarke, repeated to herself. “That’s a nice name. I like that. I think you’ll like living here, Lexa. Rent’s not bad, Lincoln fixes stuff quick, the beach is, like, right there, and,” she gave a slight hand wave across her face and chest, “you get to hang out with the Hot Mess Express in the elevator.”

“They actually advertised that last one on the website. It was 90% of the reason I signed my lease.”

Clarke barked out a laugh, reaching up a hand to run through her tousled blonde hair and leaning her head back against the wall.

“I…” Clarke began, but stopped when the elevator dinged and the doors opened. She caught Lexa’s eye, a wry smile on her face, and gave a half-hearted salute. “Have a good night, Lexa.”

Lexa looked out into the hallway, her apartment door slightly to the right, and then back at Clarke. Her body was aching, but for reasons she couldn't quite explain, she couldn’t make her legs walk her out of the elevator.

Instead, Lexa crouched slowly, setting the box down and then lowering herself onto the floor. She tugged the hem of her yoga pants back into place and spread her legs out in front of her, crossing them at the ankles. She glanced over at Clarke, who was looking at her with a bemused grin. Lexa extended an arm, gesturing for the champagne bottle tucked in Clarke’s lap, and Clarke handed it over.

Lexa took a drink, wincing slightly as the warm liquid hit her throat. “You have terrible taste in champagne.”

“It’s all I can afford. I lied about the rent.”

Lexa laughed, passing the bottle back to Clarke. “Do you do this often?”

Clarke leaned forward, pressing the top button on the elevator’s panel. “What? Lie? Or get trashed in an elevator at 2 in the morning?”

“The second one.”

Clarke considered for a second and looked at the ceiling. “This is a new one for me, honestly. A new high or low… now that I couldn't tell you,”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Lexa asked, but quickly backtracked. “I mean, you don’t have to, I am a literal stranger. I’m sorry.”

Clarke’s eyes softened. “Don’t apologize. I just…” she took another drink, “I lost my first patient today.” Clarke’s voice cracked, and Lexa felt her heart lurch in her chest. Her body ached to reach out for the girl, but she stopped herself.

“Clarke, I’m so sorry.”

“I mean, they tell you all the time that this happens and you can’t blame yourself and you try to prepare yourself with scenarios but… ugh, it sucks. I thought I could save her. I should’ve saved her.”

Lexa nodded lamely, unsure of what to say.

“You’d think I’d be use to it by now. My mom’s a doctor, and my dad…” Clarke stopped herself, and took another drink. “Will you… Will you just talk about something? Anything?”

Lexa nodded, and tried to think of something to say. She glanced at her cardboard box, and dropped a finger to trace the hasty sharpie marks where she’d scratched out “Christmas Decorations” and written “Terrible Movies.”

“Oh!” Lexa’s voice echoed around the elevator, and Clarke looked up curiously. “One Christmas, I was probably four, I had this idea to make everyone in my family homemade Christmas cards. The only problem was, I had no idea how to read or write anything but my name.” Lexa caught Clarke’s eye, and was grateful to see a small smile playing on Clarke’s lips. “So, like you do, I asked my Uncle Gus if he would show me how to write ‘Merry Christmas.’ We sat down, he spelled it out letter by letter, and I drew these beautiful cards out for each member of my family, Uncle Gus cheering me on the whole way. Christmas morning rolls around, I deliver my cards to everyone, and they open them up to see a beautiful drawing of a snowman with ‘Merry Christmas, Asshole. Love, Lexa’ written in each one.”

A small gasp from the other end of the car brought Lexa out of her story, and she looked up to find the blonde holding her knees to her chest, one hand clamped over her mouth, and her eyes shiny with tears as her body shook with laughter.

“Lexa, you did NOT.” Clarke could barely contain her giggles long enough to speak, and Lexa thought it was the best sound she had heard all night.

“I did,” Lexa said, unable to hold in her own laughter, and she recalled how horrified her mother had been that day, and how embarrassed she had been when her uncle had shared the story seven years later at Thanksgiving.

“That is the most epic thing I’ve ever heard. That deserves a drink.” Clarke passed the bottle back to Lexa, who grimaced, but accepted.

Clarke rolled her eyes. “Diva.”

“If my parents found out I drank this, I would probably be disowned,” Lexa said, studying the bottle. “On second thought…” she took a long swallow, only stopping when she heard Clarke’s laugh again.

“So, you’re obviously not from California. What brings you to our little corner of the world?”

Lexa reached down to pick at a piece of fuzz on her knee. “Work. I got hired onto a grant-funded research project under one of the Neurology professors on campus. We’ll be working with the Alzheimer’s Disease Research Center up at Stanford.”

“Lexa, that’s incredible. Congratulations.” The pride in Clarke’s voice caused Lexa to look up from her knee, and the two locked eyes from across the elevator, a shy smile spreading on Lexa’s face.

“Thank you,” Lexa said, sincerely. “I’m a bit nervous, to be honest.”

“You’re going to kick that research’s ass,” Clarke said, her face contorting in slight confusion as she contemplated if that sentence actually worked, ultimately shrugging and reaching back for the bottle.

“And you’re a doctor?”

“Dentist.”

Lexa’s mouth dropped slightly. But, hadn’t Clarke just said… her patient...

“Lexa, I’m kidding. I work in the ER.”

Lexa shook her head, slightly embarrassed under Clarke’s teasing eyes. “Cute.”

“So I’ve been told,” Clarke said with a shrug.

Noticing that they had stopped moving, Clarke again reached out and pressed the button for the ground floor. Shooting a glance back at Lexa, she quickly reached up and pressed every button.

Lexa laughed as Clarke sat back down, looking proud of herself. “So, we’re in this for the long haul, I see?”

“Oh yeah, we’re committed.” Clarke took another drink of champagne, frowning at the rapidly dwindling amount of liquid left in the bottle before passing it to Lexa.

“How long have you lived here?”

Lexa watched as Clarke took a quick tally in her head. “It will be… three years in December, I guess? I live with my friend, Raven, on the 7th floor.”

“Will she not be worried that you aren’t home?”

“Maybe, but she didn’t put the toilet paper back on the roll this morning, so screw her.”

Lexa tipped the bottle towards Clarke in a mock toast. Clarke smiled, and nodded at the box sitting next to Lexa. “How about you? Roommate? Significant other?”

Lexa shook her head slowly. “Just me. It’s the first time I’ve lived alone… ever? I’m not sure what I’m going to do with myself.”

Clarke scoffed, pressing a finger into her chest. “Hang out with me, obviously.”

“Getting drunk in elevators?”

“Yes. Or bars. Or our apartments. I’m an equal opportunity drunkard. It’s kind of a gift.” Clarke reached back out for the bottle, tipping the few remaining drops into her mouth and then letting out a low groan. Lexa felt all of the hairs on her arm stand on end. Shaking herself out of it, she pulled her phone out of her jacket pocket to check the time.

“How hard can it be to get alcohol delivered to an elevator in the middle of the night?”

Clarke threw her head back and raised her arm in agreement. “Right? It’s 2016. I should be able to imagine alcohol and it appear right in front of me, like I’m at Hogwarts or something.”

“I don’t think that’s how magic works, Clarke.”

“It is if your Patronus is booze.”

Lexa laughed, rolling her neck from side to side to stretch her sore muscles. She glanced back at Clarke in time to see the other girl’s eyes dart up to the ceiling.

“Anyway,” Clarke cleared her throat, “what do you have planned the rest of the weekend?”

Lexa patted the box at her side. “Unpacking, mostly. It’s a bit ridiculous how much stuff I have, considering how many times I’ve moved. I also want to go to the beach. I’ve actually never been.”

Clarke’s mouth dropped. “You’ve what?”

Lexa shrugged a shoulder. “I’ve been sailing in the Atlantic, but my family always preferred vacationing in Europe or going skiing to the beach.”

Clarke stared at Lexa wide-eyed for a moment, and Lexa shrugged again. This seemed to propel Clarke into motion, because she quickly sat up and pressed the button for the ground floor.

“Clarke, what are you doing?

Clarke ignored her, pressing the ground floor button again as if that would make the elevator go any faster.

Clarke stood, reaching out a hand for a still confused Lexa and pulling her to her feet as the doors opened. Her face pulled into a maniacal grin and she darted out the door, yelling a quick “Leave it!” to Lexa, who was pointing lamely to her cardboard box resting in the floor of the elevator next to an empty, rolling bottle of champagne.

She caught up with Clarke in the lobby next to the front desk where Lincoln sat, looking endlessly amused at Lexa’s confused face. Clarke reached out and again grabbed Lexa’s hand, blowing a kiss to the boy behind the desk and jogging into the night.

Clarke’s laughter was contagious, and all apprehensions about their destination faded in Lexa’s mind as she ran along with her down the darkened, empty street. They took a quick left at the stop sign, and jogged up a slight hill. When they reached the top, Lexa’s breath caught in her throat.

Stretched out in front of them, past an empty beach, was the ocean. The waves crashed in, illuminated by a bright, full moon, and Lexa had never seen anything like it. The breeze off the ocean caught in her hair, and she licked her lips and tasted a faint hint of salt.

Clarke stood silently next to her, letting her drink it all in for a few moments. With their arms pressed together, Lexa felt Clarke take a shuddering breath. She turned her head slightly to take in Clarke’s profile, and in the moonlight she could see the remnants of the tears from earlier staining her cheeks. Clarke’s shoulders slumped slightly, and Lexa found herself wondering what Clarke looked like when she wasn’t carrying the weight of the world on her back, how the corners of her eyes crinkled when she didn’t have to try to smile.

Lexa realized she was still holding Clarke’s hand, and gave it a tight squeeze. Clarke looked over and caught her eye, the same mischievous grin from before now back in place. “You ready?”

Lexa was confused. Was seeing the ocean not what they were doing? Before she could respond, she felt another tug of her arm as Clarke pulled them both down into the sand. Clarke let go of Lexa’s hand and bent down to remove her shoes, and for a moment Lexa missed the connection. A low “come on!” from Clarke snapped her out of her daze, and she hurriedly bent down to pull off her sneakers and jacket so that she could follow a now sprinting Clarke towards the water.

Lexa skidded to a stop as the cold water hit her ankles, letting out a sharp yell of surprise. Clarke squealed in delight in front of her, lifting her arms towards the sky, closing her eyes, and spinning in the waves.

Clarke turned and reached out to Lexa with both hands. “I’ve got you.”

Lexa took a few steps further into the water, reaching out and grabbing ahold of Clarke’s outstretched forearms. The waves crashed around their knees, then their thighs, as Clarke pulled them deeper into the water, and they laughed as they stumbled, gripping tighter to each other for support.

“Clarke,” Lexa began, and tugged Clarke’s arm so that the other girl was facing her. Lexa looked at the sky, breathing in the smell of the ocean before she spoke again, her words coming out rushed. “I know you wish you could save everyone, and I wish I could tell you that it gets easier, but I honestly don’t think it ever does. And there are things you can’t control, and you can’t… you can’t save everyone, but I think you’re one of the bravest people I’ve ever met for trying.”

Clarke’s eyes grew large, bright and blue and shining as she stared at Lexa, drinking in her face. She shook her head slowly, and her brow furrowed as she turned to look out at the expanse of water.

“Clarke, I…” Lexa tried to backtrack, thinking she’d overstepped her bounds, but her words were cut off as Clarke surged forward and pressed their lips together. Lexa was caught off guard, but quickly regained her balance, wrapping both arms around Clarke’s waist as she felt Clarke’s arms weave behind her neck. They stood in the ocean for what felt like eternity, kissing slowly as the surf curled around their legs. A gust of wind blew through their hair and Lexa shivered, prompting Clarke to pull their bodies closer before breaking the kiss.

Lexa unconsciously leaned forward, not ready to let go of the feeling of Clarke’s mouth on hers, but Clarke offered only a short, chaste kiss, removing one hand from Lexa’s neck to move a strand of curls back behind Lexa’s ear.

Lexa opened her eyes to find Clarke staring at her with an almost unreadable expression, like she was looking at something she’d known all of her life but was finally seeing for the first time.

“Thank you, Lexa.” Clarke’s voice was soft, barely audible over the crash of waves. Lexa nodded in response, and pressed her forehead against Clarke’s, pulling her tighter as the two closed their eyes and swayed together, dancing to the melody of an empty ocean.

\-------------

Lexa woke the next morning to the sunlight pouring in her window, sprawled out on a bed without sheets. She stretched her legs and felt the sand rub her bare skin. She licked her lips and tasted the ocean and Clarke.

She opened her eyes and it felt like home.

**Author's Note:**

> My plan is to make this part of a series of short stories about Clarke, Lexa, and the gang and the shenanigans they get into whilst living in the same apartment complex. Like, Melrose Place without the all the murder. Maybe. 
> 
> I've had terrible luck with roommates, so my own experiences won't be helpful here (unless you want to read a story about Clarke finding Raven doing a line of coke off the toilet seat) but if you have fun stories you'd like to share, I'd love to hear them! I'm on Tumblr @adaintyhooligan.


End file.
